Just Your Typical Shire Romance
by Aurora West
Summary: Several years after the War of the Ring, Merry finds himself dissatisfied with life in the Shire. To complicate matters, he's oddly drawn to Estella Bolger.
1. A Rather Large Mess

Just Your Typical Shire Romance...Or Not 

Disclaimer: None of it is mine. None. 

Author's note: I have been trying to write this story ever since I discovered Estella Bolger's existence, and here, finally, after several rewrites, is a first chapter. I'm not sure about the quality of this draft, so please review! Please, please, please. Tell me whether it was any good, what you liked, what you didn't like (I can take it, so be tough on me), if should continue, that sort of thing. I try to get canon right, but it's hard to choose between the books and the movies, and I haven't memorized every single word of all of Tolkien's books. Telling me I'm not canon enough is not the same as constructive criticism. So yes. Review! Also, thank you to everyone who's reviewed my other two Lord of the Rings stories, if you're reading this. Thank you! They make me want to write more about hobbits. 

~ 

Chapter 1: A Rather Large Mess 

"Meriadoc Brandybuck!" 

The hobbit whom occasionally went by that name (but more often by Merry) flinched. There had been pounding on the door for several minutes, but the hollering of his name was a new addition to the racket. 

"Meriadoc, I've come all the way to Crickhollow to speak with you so you'd better open the door this instant!" 

Merry knew the voice. He'd been trying to avoid the owner of it for months. Having Pippin, his cousin, on hand was best--he could simply say in that innocent, disarming way of his, "Merry? Oh, he's just up visiting Sam and Rosie and Gamgee." But Pippin wasn't there, and Merry was now faced with one of two choices: open the door, and probably die, or don't open the door, and probably die. It all depended on how much longer he wanted to live and how long it would take the door to splinter into a thousand pieces. 

"Meriadoc! I know you're in there; I saw you duck when you noticed me coming!" 

So that was it. There was to be no more skulking and cowering while the door shuddered with each angry pound on it. With a sigh, he walked down the hall to the door and swung it open; coming face to face with perhaps the last person he wanted to see at that moment. 

"Hello, Estella," he said with a weak smile. She fixed him with a glare that quickly wiped it off his face, and he stammered, "It's…erm…nice to see you…" 

"Invite me in, Meriadoc," she said in a dangerous tone. 

He did so. There weren't many other options. And, having invited her in, he did the only sensible thing--made tea. While the water heated, Merry turned to Estella Bolger and questioned (in what he hoped resembled a stern tone), "Now, what can I possibly have done to make you so furious?" 

She gave him a withering look. "I think the better question would be what _haven't_ you done." 

"All right, then," Merry replied uneasily. "What haven't I done?" 

The kettle suddenly came to a boil and he busied himself with it, hoping Estella would vent her frustrations while he was only giving her half a mind. 

But Estella Bolger was smarter than that. The most stubborn (not to mention sharp-tongued) lass in the Shire was not so easily deterred by the tasks of domesticity. She would wait until they were both properly settled at the table, when there would be no interruptions. 

By the time that moment came, she seemed to have calmed down somewhat. At least, she wasn't quite so flushed with anger. 

"Now, Estella," he began, "what…exactly…is the problem?" 

Estella ignored her tea. "Is it just me, Merry, or have you gone out of your way to avoid seeing me these past couple months?" 

"Er…" 

"You don't have to answer that." She stared at him and went on, "And I know you've been getting Peregrin to send me away." 

Merry was unsure of how to respond to this. His reasons for avoiding her like plague were many, and none of them were particularly good. After a second's thought, he decided on, "Your brother told me you're engaged." 

Narrowing her eyes, Estella said, "That's utter drivel. Why would he say that?" 

"Well, he said you _should_ be engaged, and I should stay away from you." 

"Merry Brandybuck, if you're lying to me--" 

"I'm not," he replied emphatically. Fatty Bolger had been quite clear on that point--stay away from his sister. The elder Bolger sibling knew there had been something funny between them once, and he was going to see that it wasn't there again. It was one thing to befriend a Brandybuck, but quite another to have one in the family, after all. "He thinks you're too attached to me already." 

At least Estella was no longer fuming by then. If anything, she looked rather puzzled. Leaning on the table, she asked, "Fatty's trying to keep me from seeing you?" Merry nodded warily, expecting another explosion at any time. Estella took a sip of her tea and said, "There was a Boffins lad who was quite hopeful, and my parents thought he was simply _delightful_." She rolled her eyes. "But I am not, and never was, engaged. I think all the pipeweed's finally gone to Fatty's head." 

Merry marveled at the almost imperceptible changes in her mood. Estella would have been a terror to live with. "I only know whatever Fatty's told me." 

Estella got to her feet and stared at him. "Merry, I thought you of all people would realize that I've got half a brain in my head. Do you _really_ think I've forgotten the way you were acting before you left on your quest? All the flowers and calls you made?" Starting towards the door, she added, "My brother got it wrong. It's _you_ that was attached." 

At that moment, the door opened and a voice called, "Merry? Are you here?" Pippin Took stepped into the kitchen and started. "Oh. Estella…pleasure to see you…" 

She brushed past him and mumbled, "Likewise, Peregrin." 

The two hobbits heard the door slam and Pippin glanced at Merry, eyebrows raised. "What was that?" 

Rising from his chair to pour his tea into the sink, Merry replied, "That, my friend, was a rather large mess." 


	2. An Unwelcome Conversation

Author's note: Thanks to Natta and Brandywine for reviewing! You guys rock. 

~ 

Chapter 2: An Unwelcome Conversation 

"You should've heard her, Pip. The way she was talking…you'd think I'd asked her to marry me!" 

"You've said." 

Merry took a long drag on his pipe and blew the smoke out in a frustrated sigh. He _had_ said, he realized. Many times. But so what if he was dwelling on it? She had charged up to his door, practically broken it down, and then he'd proceeded to take the abuse that Estella was so proficient at handing out. "She always was a bull-headed twit." 

Pippin gave his cousin an amused look. "Well, Merry, you _did_ spend an awful lot of time with her. Before." 

"I spend an awful lot of time with you, too," Merry snapped. "No one thinks _we're_ in love." 

Quirking an eyebrow, his cousin said, "You're in quite a temper tonight. Was Estella really that bad? I mean, _really_? She had every reason to act that way, if you ask me. She's probably imagining you led her on. Maybe even that you went with Frodo just to get away from her." 

Merry stared, horrified that his cousin would say such a thing in all seriousness. In a second, however, Pippin's mouth twitched in an effort to hold back a grin, and Merry rolled his eyes. "As I recall, Master Took, we _both_ went with Frodo to escape quite another menace." That got a laugh out of Pippin, and Merry added, "Anyway, Estella isn't the kind of lass to think something like that." 

"Oh?" Pippin asked innocently. "What kind of lass is she?" 

Immediately, Merry opened his mouth to answer, but then snapped it shut. "Very clever." 

With a smug smile, Pippin leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He'd spent the past week in Hobbiton and had started back to Buckland early that morning. Too early, it seemed, for the younger hobbit appeared to be nodding off right there. 

Merry contented himself with watching the fire spit while he silently smoked his pipe. Suddenly, Pippin's voice startled him by suggesting, "You should go see her." 

Directing his gaze at Pippin, even though his cousin still hadn't opened his eyes, Merry questioned, "Who?" 

"Estella." 

Merry snorted. "I have no reason to ever speak to Miss Bolger again." 

At that, Pippin opened his eyes and stared hard at his friend. Perhaps it was the sudden formality that made him say seriously, "Merry, everyone remembers the way you acted around her…except for _you_. And I know you haven't really forgotten, you're just…pretending." 

With a sigh, Merry said, "Pip, it was just stupid." 

"What do you mean?" 

It was a good question. Truthfully, the words had just slipped from Merry's mouth--he'd never meant to admit to any of what Pippin was saying, and he'd tried to avoid thinking about it since Estella's ill-fated visit. After a bit of consideration, he said, "All of it. Estella and me. There wasn't anything. Everyone thinks there was, I know. But she was sweet on some lad from Bree who came through every once in awhile on his way to Hobbiton." 

"And you?" 

"What about me?" 

"You weren't sweet on _her_?" 

"Maybe a little." 

This time, Pippin snorted. "You're fooling yourself. You know what, Merry? I'll drag you to Stock myself, if I have to. You really should make amends." 

Merry put down his pipe and stared wonderingly at his cousin. It had finally occurred to him why Pippin was so adamant about discussing Estella. "You weren't visiting Sam and Rosie at all! You were up at the Long Cleeve's to see that Diamond, weren't you?" 

Biting his lip guiltily, Pippin replied, "I might've stopped by on the way back." 

"Well, _that_ explains it." 

"Explains what?" 

"Why you're so determined to have me kindle some sort of romance between Estella and myself. Diamond was happy to see you, was she?" 

At these words, Pippin flushed a little, which brought a grin to Merry's face. His cousin hadn't yet come of age, after all, and things like this still had the power to embarrass. "I'm not exactly high on the Long Cleeve's list of likely suitors." 

"Pip, you're the future Thain!" Merry said, a bit affronted for his friend. "They couldn't make a better marriage!" 

"I think they're just not fond of Tooks." 

"Probably." 

Pippin closed his eyes again. "Well, we're going to Stock to see Estella, whether you like it or not." 

"Pippin!" 

He didn't respond, and Merry gave up trying to get him to. Instead, he sat for awhile, thinking of what Pippin had said. There had been some merit in it--for awhile (several years earlier) Merry had fancied Estella Bolger. Just a bit. He'd been impressed by her way of always saying exactly what was on her mind, which didn't win her many friends. And she'd had plenty to say about Merry, most of it uncomplimentary. He wasn't sure what it was--the sense of adventure, maybe?--but nothing she'd ever thrown at him (figuratively _and_ literally) never deterred him from her company. Eventually, he was convinced, she'd come to have some sort of grudging respect for him. 

But then came the quest, and somehow, he'd all but forgotten Estella. Admittedly, at first, there had been some dark, cold nights when Merry couldn't tell if it was wind or Wraith shrieking, and he'd thought of her. More and more, though, his mind came to be occupied by other things. And now his adventurous side couldn't bear the thought of settling down to marriage and raising five or six screaming children. No. It would never do. 

The fire started to die down and Merry felt his eyelids begin to droop. As he got to his feet, he looked at Pippin and wondered whether or not he should wake him and send him off to his own bed. He was clearly exhausted, though, and it seemed cruel to do so. Instead, he gently spread a blanket over his friend, and then trudged off to bed himself. 


	3. In Which Pippin Plays Matchmaker

Author's note: I apologize for the amount of time it took me to finish this chapter. I finally forced myself to write a last paragraph, and as it happens, I think the end needs some work. Oh well. Read and, as always, tell me what you think and how I can improve. Also as always, thanks so much to everyone who's reviewed up to this point! You people make me very happy. 

~ 

Chapter 3: In Which Pippin Plays Matchmaker 

Pippin was true to his word. Not two weeks later Merry found himself unwillingly sitting in the carriage while their pony, Daisy, pulled it down the road towards Stock. His cousin was happily holding the reins, and Merry was still trying to decide whether or not he wanted to wrest them away and turn back towards Crickhollow. "This is going to be a disaster, Pippin. You realize that, don't you?" 

Oblivious to the pessimism of the comment and ever-stoic in the face of opposition, Pippin replied, "Merry, it will only be a disaster if you don't apologize to her." 

"And you don't know her, Pippin! She may just slam the door in my face." He leaned back in the carriage, ignoring the warm sun on his face. If only it had been raining that morning. "Her family doesn't want me forming any sort of…affection for her. You heard Fatty--you were there." 

Pippin glanced at him. "He didn't mean you can't be _friends_. Anyway, you know it was his parents that told him to say all that. Fatty would love having you for a brother." 

"All that aside, Estella isn't overly fond of me." Merry knew he was beaten, though, so he smiled slightly. "But if you want me to make amends so badly, I will. I'll try, that is." 

Pippin grinned at his victory, and the remainder of the eleven miles to Stock was spent in companionable conversation. By the time they reached the Bolger hole, Merry found himself in a good mood and convinced that he wasn't going to be skewered by Estella. 

He jumped down from the carriage and strode to the door determinedly, before he had the chance to lose his nerve. After several knocks, the door creaked open, revealing a somewhat rumpled looking Estella wearing pants and what looked to be one of Fatty's old shirts. 

"Merry!" she exclaimed, clearly shocked to see him there. Pushing a strand of tangled hair from her face, she said, "What are you doing here now? On a Sunday? Oh, I suppose you'd better come in… I must look a mess…" 

Gingerly, Merry followed her into the house. When Estella turned to face him expectantly, he cleared his throat nervously and began, "I just wanted…well, I…that is…" 

Raising an eyebrow, she asked, "Yes?" 

"I wanted to apologize. For avoiding you and…whatnot. I shouldn't have." When she only stared at him, bemused, he said, "You aren't angry about it anymore, are you?" 

"Not murderously furious, anyway." 

"Well, that's what I came over on a Sunday for." He looked at her, smiling a little crookedly with relief. "You'll forgive me, then?" 

After a moment, she conceded, "I don't see much sense in being forever embittered over it." 

"Good." 

Estella paused, apparently pondering something, for a moment. It was odd, Merry thought, but at that moment, with her pants, snarled hair, and that reflective look in her eyes, she was really quite pretty. He hadn't ever noticed that before. 

"Merry?" she suddenly said, startling him. "I just have to ask you. I've always wondered what exactly you meant to do…before. What you would have done if you hadn't left, I mean?" Estella didn't say any more, just watched him, waiting for an answer. 

He was taken off-guard by the question. "I suppose I would have…" For a second, he thought about that, and then finished unhelpfully, "I don't know, I guess. Sorry." 

Shrugging, she said, "I figured as much at the time. You didn't strike me as particularly stable." 

"What?!" Merry glared at her. "Since when are _you_ interested in stability?" 

Estella smiled slyly and remarked, "I couldn't have a husband who'd drop everything just for a little adventure, could I?" 

"Estella, if you think what Frodo did was nothing more than a "little adventure," then you're just as thick-headed as--" Suddenly, he stopped. "You don't, of course. You're only trying to annoy me." 

Crossing her arms, she said, "You've become less tolerant of my wit, I see." 

Merry snorted. "_Anyone_ would become less tolerant of your 'wit,' as you say." 

She laughed at that. "And you're fighting back, at last!" 

Their eyes met for just a second before both of them looked away. "Well." Merry cleared his throat. "Friends?" 

Nodding and offering him a smile, she said, "I think so." Looking past his shoulder, Estella commented, "It must be time for you to leave. Your cousin's getting impatient." 

Merry glanced behind himself and caught a glance of Pippin's curls disappearing below the windowsill. "Yes, I suppose that means I'd better go." 

"Thank you for coming, Merry. I didn't think--" She hesitated, then finished, "I didn't think you were capable of realizing when an apology was needed." 

"I'll ignore the insult there and take it as recognition of my maturity." 

Estella inclined her head, smiling slightly. "As you will." 

"Good-bye, then." Merry swiftly made his exit, feeling that somehow, in some way that he was unaware of, he'd made a fool of himself. 

When he mentioned this to Pippin, his cousin suggested, "Maybe you've got some leftover feelings for her after all. Your face was awfully red when you came out." 

Merry's jaw dropped. "I most certainly do not, and--was it?" 

Pippin nodded, grinning. "Red as a beet. I guess that's a sign she didn't rip your head off?" 

"No. She was very…" Merry pondered the correct word to use. "…friendly." 

"Well, that's good!" 

After a moment, Merry asked, "Pippin, have you ever noticed that Estella's eyes are quite…brown?" 

Wisely, Pippin refrained from any other comment, save, "No." His older cousin had never talked that way before--with that dazed, bewildered look on his face. Well, he _had_ attempted to wax rhapsodic about Eowyn once or twice, but he'd ended up, as usual, extorting her incredible skills as a warrior. Pippin couldn't believe that Merry actually thought he felt nothing for Estella. He knew his best friend was far cleverer than him, but there were times when Merry acted like such a fool. 

"Well, Merry," he began, "if you like her eyes so much, you should spend more time with her." 

"I wouldn't spend time with her because I like her _eyes_, Pip, it's…never mind." 

"Okay." 

The bewildered look slowly began to leave Merry's face as he said, "I think Estella and I may get to be friends." 

"I'm glad." 

"I don't suppose her family will want us to. Honestly, you'd think it's impossible in the Shire to just be friends with a lass." 

"That's true." 

"But they shouldn't mind, because it's not as if I mean to marry her." 

"Right." 

Glancing at Pippin, Merry said, "You don't want to hear about this, do you?" 

With an innocent expression on his face, Pippin replied, "Oh, it doesn't bother me. But you're only incriminating yourself by spending half the ride home talking about her." 

"Pip." 

"What?" 

He was about to spout some denial, but instead, he just shook his head and laughed. "I don't know. I wonder what I'd do it you weren't here, sometimes." 

"Well, don't bother. I don't plan on going anywhere for a long time. 

"Good to hear." Pippin grinned at this and looked forward. Suddenly, though, he went pale. Merry gave him a puzzled look and questioned, "What?" prompting Pippin to shakily point. 

Duly, Merry followed the direction his cousin gestured in, and was surprised by a voice saying, "Peregrin, finally! I thought I'd never find you!" 


	4. Revelations

Author's note: At long last, here is the fourth chapter of this story. To everyone who was reading this who's actually still interested: I deeply apologize for not writing a word in this story for a year or however long it was. You all reviewed in good faith, and I was bad. I make no promises with the addition of this chapter, but I do have a plan now and I know where I want this story to go. So hopefully it will get finished soon. As always, thanks to everyone who reviewed, it always makes me really happy. 

Chapter 4: Revelations

Pippin gaped, fish-like, for several seconds before Merry elbowed him and said cheerily, "Hello, Diamond. What brings you here?" 

"Oh, well…" Diamond of Long Cleeve glanced at Pippin, and her face fell a bit as he looked away from her. "I was visiting Celandine Brandybuck. We're old friends, you know." She flushed and added, "I stopped by Crickhollow to tell you, but you weren't there." 

Merry raised his eyebrows. "Tell us…you'd seen Celandine?" 

"Oh!" Diamond turned a deeper shade of red. "No, I meant to tell you that Samwise Gamgee is holding a party to celebrate Frodo's birthday." She paused to take a breath. "That's what I've heard, at least. Er, what Celandine's heard. And…well, that was all, really. I just wondered where you'd gone. It flustered me a bit to run into you like this…" 

Resisting the urge to inform her that he could tell, Merry smiled and replied a bit wickedly, "Ah, Pippin can explain where we've been." 

The sweet feeling of revenge took hold as Pippin stared at him wildly, then looked at Diamond. "Um," he stammered, "that is, well, Merry and Estella Bolger had a bit of an…erm…argument, and I was trying to patch things up…between them. Er." His face was bright red, all the way up to the points of his ears. "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you called. I wouldn't inconvenience you...well, not intentionally, that is, especially when you've been so thoughtful and come all this way to tell us--" 

Merry clapped a hand down on his friend's shoulder, deciding that perhaps he'd been humiliated enough. "Well, Diamond, we'd best be getting back. There're chores and whatnot to be done. You're welcome to stop by anytime, though." 

"Of course! Thank you. I will, and…with any luck, you'll be there. Good-bye, Meriadoc, and--" Diamond glanced hopefully at Pippin, who met her eyes for the barest of seconds. With a disappointed sigh, she finished, "Good-bye, Peregrin. I do hope I'll see you at the party…?" Pippin nodded and mumbled, "Bye." By the time she'd ridden past, he was a lovely shade of dark purple, and Merry laughed. "You're giving _me_ advice about my love life?" 

"Merry Brandybuck," Pippin began stiffly, "one more word, and everyone in Hobbiton will find out about you and Pervinca kissing in the bushes at Bilbo's Party!" 

Merry attempted to stifle his snorts of laughter and said, "Fair enough, Pip. Here, hand me the reins." His cousin did so, and the two hobbits continued towards Crickhollow. 

~

"Sam. Sam!" Merry stared helplessly at the door that had just shut. "Sam, I've brought the extra plates!" 

Faintly, a shout came back, "I'll be right with you, Mr. Merry!" 

Merry glanced down at the stack of teetering dishes and tottered towards the kitchen. "Rosie, help me!" 

Rosie Gamgee popped her head out of the door and gasped, "Gracious, Merry! Hasn't Sam taken those from you yet?" 

As she rushed to help him, Merry grunted, "Not exactly. He's too busy scolding Pippin for not arranging the tables properly." 

Rosie rolled her eyes, but couldn't keep a slight smile off her face. "Everything must be perfect for him, you know. Send him back in--he's supposed to be helping me with these meat pies!" 

Before he had a chance to answer, she bustled off. He turned to open the front door, but it was suddenly flung wide, accompanied by a shout of, "Rosie!" The hobbit's forward momentum carried her through the door and almost right into Merry, who she obviously (judging by the expression on her face) had not expected to be there. 

"Hello, Estella," he said cheerfully. 

"Hello," she replied a bit stiffly, no doubt trying to ignore the red flush creeping up her face. "I didn't mean to flatten you like that." "No harm done. I expect I'll regain the use of my left foot in no time at all." 

"I never touched your foot!" she said indignantly. "Now where's Rosie?" 

"Could be anywhere." 

Estella gave him an exasperated look. "That's not particularly helpful." 

"Well," Merry began with a small smile," How was I to know you were going to burst in here in search of her? I certainly would have kept myself informed of her whereabouts, otherwise." 

She only had time to give him a withering stare before Rosie reappeared with an armful of potatoes. "Rosie!" Estella exclaimed, "There you are!" Her eyes fell on the tubers and she offered, "Let me help you with those--you'll probably need more, too. My cousins have decided to come after all." 

A despairing look passed over Rosie's face, and noticing Merry was still there, she asked, "Merry, have you gone to fetch Sam yet?" 

"No, I got caught up in assisting Miss Bolger here." 

Said Bolger snorted and turned back to Rosie. "Also, that tablecloth you asked for? I searched every inch of the house for our extra one and it's nowhere to be found." 

Rosie sighed and said to Merry, "Could you ask Sam to run to my parents? Have him ask my mother for an extra tablecloth and some help with the cooking?" 

"What about the meat pies?" he asked with a grin. 

"Estella will help me with those." 

"What?! Rosie, you know I can't cook to save my life!" 

Ignoring her friend, she commanded Merry, "And then you can come back in and help, too. There're potatoes that need peeling." 

He managed not to let his expression falter. Trapped in a kitchen with Estella Bolger wasn't an exciting prospect. "I'd be happy to." With those words, he bounded out the door. For a moment, he watched in amusement as Sam attempted to direct Pippin where to put the tables, then promptly readjusted them. When one of the legs landed on Pippin's foot and he yelped, Merry decided to call, "Sam! Rosie has an errand for you." 

Sam set the table on the ground, giving Pippin a chance to free his appendage. "What's that?" 

"She needs her mother and a tablecloth." 

With a nod, Sam responded, "Right. Poor Rosie, she's at her wit's end trying to manage all of this." 

Merry grinned. "I'll say." 

Turning to Pippin, Sam said sternly, "Now, Mr. Pippin, you remember where I told you to put all of these?" 

"Sam," Pippin began, "they're _tables_. Does it really matter…" He trailed off at the look Sam gave him and hastily amended, "That is, of course I remember and I'll do the job perfectly." As Sam rushed off, Pippin rolled his eyes and said, "Honestly, who's going to care what angles the tables are at? Everyone's going to be so busy thinking Sam's completely cracked for holding a birthday party for a hobbit who isn't even in Middle-earth!" 

Merry shrugged. "Well, Sam will notice, and he's rather larger than you are, so I'd do it right if I were you. Now," he sighed, "I'm supposed to be helping Miss Bolger peel potatoes, so if you'll excuse me…" He could have sworn he heard Pippin snicker, but he disregarded it as paranoia and made his way back to the kitchen. Rosie seemed to have disappeared, and Estella was already surrounded by potato peelings. 

For a second, he just stood there, wondering what exactly to do, but Estella solved his problem for him by saying, "Well, don't just stand there looking helpless. Rosie wants these peeled by the time she gets back." 

Sitting down and picking up a knife and a potato, Merry questioned, "Where did she go?" 

"Oh, I don't know. She's impossible to talk to when she gets in one of these moods." 

Merry nodded, and the two of them peeled in silence for several minutes. After awhile, however, he noticed that Estella's eyes kept flicking up to his face before looking almost guiltily away, so he asked in the most polite tone he could manage, "Is something wrong, Miss Bolger?" 

"What?" She flushed, evidently embarrassed at having been caught. "Oh, no, nothing's wrong. I just…" Hesitating for several seconds, she asked, "Don't you find it a bit odd that we're holding a birthday party for Frodo, when he's…well, when he's gone?" 

At this, Merry's eyes flashed with a small surge of anger. "It's not for me to decide what's odd. If you must know, I've seen odder. You don't know anything about it, Estella. You don't know what he went through with Frodo and how much Frodo will always mean to him. _I_ don't even know. So I'll not have you laughing at Sam." He paused and then added fiercely, "And Frodo isn't dead." 

Instead of responding, Estella continued to peel, which, upon reflection, Merry was grateful for. The knife she was holding seemed considerably longer and sharper than his, and he didn't fancy her using it on him instead of the potatoes. He supposed he shouldn't have reacted that forcefully to what was, really, a perfectly understandable comment. But he was tired of being stared at by all of these hobbits who had no inkling of what Frodo had done for them. Oh, things had been bad under Saruman for awhile, but nothing compared to what he'd seen. They'd been just bad enough to make everyone angry--angry enough to kill, which Merry never would have been able to bring himself to do again. Poor Frodo, who had never wanted to leave the Shire, returned and had to endure more destruction. "We set out to save the Shire," he'd said. When had he realized that the Shire had been saved, but he hadn't been? Was it when the lack of understanding or care became too much for him? And why hadn't any of them seen it then? 

His thoughts were interrupted by Estella slamming down her knife and saying, "Well, if I don't understand, it's because no one ever bothered to tell me!" She glared at him, and after a second went on, "_You_ certainly never did. You just up and disappeared one day and came back too grand for everyone else. I'm sorry, but Sam's behavior seems strange to me, and it always will, because no, _I don't know what any of you went through_." There was an extremely awkward silence after this, and neither of them moved. Estella's face was red, most likely from anger, but she surprised Merry by adding softly, "I'd like to have some idea." 

Merry sighed and didn't answer, preferring to finish peeling the potatoes and leave as soon as possible. 

When Rosie came back it was to find the two of them subdued and completely quiet, and, taking one look at the scene, she shooed Merry from the kitchen to make himself useful somewhere else. Sam employed him in the strategic placement of flowers until he announced in a panicky voice that the first guests were arriving and they couldn't keep preparing things with others looking on. Merry attempted to chat with the early arrivals, but he soon found that he had no desire whatsoever to remain at the party, and so, when Sam had vanished inside momentarily, he made a quick escape, heading back to Crickhollow on his pony. 

~


	5. The Departure

Disclaimer and author's note: Nothing is mine. Except Estella's personality, I suppose. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, it makes me happy, especially since this story was idle for a year.   
I'm looking for a beta reader, so if anyone is feeling up to it, please email me! But I need someone who's willing to be a hardass and be tough on me. 

Chapter 5: The Departure

Merry spent several hours pouring over maps, thinking bitterly on the fact that his fellow hobbits could never even imagine a place like Gondor, with its monumental, gleaming cities made of stone; or Rohan, with its magnificent horses and temple-like stables to house them. No, they could not imagine, nor would they want to. They were so content with their small worlds that they cared nothing for anything outside of it--indeed, they were afraid, and Saruman had heightened that fear. 

He hadn't realized how angry he was about it until Estella had brought it out of him in Sam and Rosie's kitchen. He hadn't felt like such an outsider at first, though. When they'd first returned to the Shire, they'd been heroes--they could do no wrong in everyone's eyes. But eventually, the novelty of their foreign finery had worn thin, the stories of their adventures had grown old, and the status conferred on them by both disappeared. 

Merry angrily slammed his book shut. When had he stopped being a hero? And when had it started mattering? 

For a long time, he stared at the flames jumping and crackling in the fireplace, and at some point (though in the future he wouldn't be able to recall when or how he'd arrived at it), he decided that the only thing to do was to leave. Get out of the Shire for a bit and clear his mind. It would be good for him. 

It didn't take long to pack (though he made sure to include his finest clothes). He put enough food in his bag to last about two weeks--surely enough time to get his bearings again and start to enjoy himself in his home. As he walked out the door, it occurred to him that Pippin would wonder where he was, so he quickly scribbled a short note, left it on the kitchen table, and went to saddle Daisy. 

Before very long, he had set out on his adventure. Evening was just beginning to fall, and he knew he wouldn't be able to travel very far. He just had to get far enough so that no one would be able to come after him. As he crossed Brandywine Bridge, the sun finally set, and the sounds of the night started to fill the quiet of dusk. Merry felt his anger begin to dissipitate as he listened to the crickets and frogs singing. This was the Shire that he'd always loved--the sound of the Brandywine burbling faintly, birds twittering softly as they roosted for the night. An owl glided overhead on silent wings and a solitary bat flew out of a hollow tree, snapping up a moth as it went. 

It was soon too dark to see, and when Daisy stumbled on a root growing across the road, he stopped and dismounted. There was a small clearing just a bit into the trees and he picked his way towards it, tying Daisy to a tree when he got there. Enough brush littered the ground nearby to build a small fire and he soon had it merrily burning, with a skillet full of potatoes frying over it. 

He leaned back and stared through the branches at the stars twinkling in the sky. It had been a long time since he'd felt this peaceful. 

Slow hoof beats on the road caught his attention and he sat up, hoping it wasn't Pippin. He couldn't explain to him what was wrong. Pippin loved the Shire as much as he ever had, if not more, and he would never understand why Merry was dissatisfied with it. 

A pony and rider came into view and dismounted upon drawing close. Merry cursed inwardly as the figure made his way towards the fire but held his tongue in case it was only a fellow traveler. When the figure stepped into the light cast by the fire, however, he gasped and jumped to his feet. "Estella!" he exclaimed, sputtering. "What--what are you doing here?!" 

She tied up her pony and stood opposite him on the other side of the fire. "I followed you," she said simply. "I was going to apologize for being…a bit rude to you." Casting her eye about his camp, Estella remarked, "You look like you're setting off on quite a journey." 

"What I'm doing is no business of yours!" he snapped. 

"I suppose not," she replied. "But I'm asking all the same." 

Merry tried to calm himself and took a deep breath before saying, "Estella, you'd best get back. It's late and even this road isn't always safe." 

"Where are you going?" she asked bluntly. 

"Nowhere important," he shot back. 

They glared at each other for a moment before Estella said, "Rohan? Gondor?" Merry gaped for a second at her pronouncement and she almost smiled, adding, "Pippin was quite drunk. He spoke about those lands. Said both of you missed them sometimes." 

"What if I am?" Merry asked waspishly. "It doesn't concern you." 

Estella averted her eyes from his at last, and he felt a twinge of guilt, though he wasn't sure for what. "Well," she began, "then may I stay here for the night? It's a long way back, as you said, and there were clouds off to the west. They'll soon cover the moon." 

Merry sighed, knowing he could not refuse her after the way he'd already treated her that day. "Yes, of course you can. I don't want to be responsible for you breaking your neck." He pulled the skillet off the fire and handed her a plate, saying, "Here, you might as well share this with me." 

"Thank you," Estella murmured, accepting half of the potatoes. 

They spent the remainder of the night in relative silence, speaking occasionally in awkward tones about such important topics as the weather (unseasonably warm), the level of water in the Brandywine (a bit low), and some common acquaintances (all quite well) before going to sleep. Merry gave Estella one of his blankets, which she spread out next to the fire. He did the same on the opposite side and settled on it, closing his eyes. He expected to lay awake for a long time, but he fell asleep almost immediately, lulled by the crackling of the fire and Estella's gentle breathing. 

~

The following day dawned grey and cloudy and Merry started a fire to keep warm as much as to cook breakfast. As he was kneeling next to it, Estella suddenly dumped a pile of wood in front of him, and he started, unaware she'd been gathering it. "Are you going to tell me where you're going or not?" she questioned once more. 

Merry sighed. Despite the fact that he'd slept through the night, he felt as though he'd spent hours lying awake, and so he answered wearily, "I'm going to Gondor, to see my friend, Lady Éowyn." 

Estella nodded and remained silent for awhile. Finally, she hesitantly met his eyes and said, "I'd like to go with you." 

"No," Merry said flatly. 

Her eyes narrowed determinedly and she said, "You berate me for my lack of understanding, yet you refuse to help me understand! Don't be so quick to assume that everyone in the Shire wishes to stay there, ignorant of the outside world, for their entire lives!" She took a step closer to him and continued, "Ever since the day the four of you returned, I have wanted to see more of this world. My parents didn't want me talking to you because of it." 

Surprised, Merry interjected, "_That's_ why I wasn't to associate with you?" 

"That and who else knows why. The point is, Merry, I want to know what's out there, and you can show me. Please. I…I want to know." 

Merry hung his head and began slowly, "Estella…" 

"I will follow you anyway if you say no," she interrupted fiercely. 

Merry threw his hands up and said, "Fine! But you don't care for me all that much and it will bet at least a ten day journey spent entirely in my company." 

"How do you know so much of my feelings?" Estella retorted. 

For just a second, Merry gaped, unable to find anything to say. "I don't," he replied, a flush creeping up his face. He was glad Estella knew nothing of his feelings at that moment, which he himself was having trouble fathoming. For some reason, he was almost glad he'd given in and told her she could come and even gladder that she hadn't agreed with his assessment of her opinion of him. Again he found himself thinking of her eyes, and how warm they were, even now, when he was making a complete fool of himself by blushing like tweenager talking to a lass for the first time. 

To his surprise, she smiled, though thankfully she made no mention of his red face. Instead, she simply said, "Thank you." 

"You're welcome," he mumbled. Clearing his throat, he remarked, "We'd best get going, we're not even to Bree yet." 

She nodded and they quickly packed away their things, doused the fire, and set off. 

The day passed uneventfully. Around noon, they passed through Bree and bought more food, but otherwise they kept moving and made good time. By late afternoon, however, the clouds were growing darker and a brisk wind had started blowing. 

Estella squinted towards the west and commented, "It's going to rain." 

Nodding, Merry agreed, "Looks like it. I'd hoped it wouldn't." 

"Well, it may hold off until we find shelter." Estella pointed to a rocky outcrop rising from the plain in the distance. "What about that?" 

Merry paled. "No, not there." 

She looked at him strangely. "But it may be the only shelter for miles. Why not?" 

"I can't sleep there," he said flatly. "I have memories of that place and they aren't pleasant. We'll have to find somewhere else." 

The first raindrops began to fall and Estella looked longingly at the promontory. She remained silent, however, and they rode on. 

The wind grew steadily stronger and colder, and the rain fell harder and harder until it had become a torrential downpour. Estella shivered, soaked to the bone, and Merry looked away guiltily. They were riding past the rocky outcrop and he could make out the ancient ruins on the top of it. It was true, Weathertop would make a good shelter, but he wasn't sure he could face another night there. But Estella was right, there wasn't any other shelter for miles, and… He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, again noticing her shivering, which she was trying to hide. No, they couldn't go on. Besides, the ponies couldn't stand much more in this weather. 

"Estella," he called over the pounding of the rain. "Let's stop. There are a couple alcoves on the other side of Weathertop." 

"Are you sure?" she asked, though there was a flash of hope in her eyes. 

"I'm sure," he replied, reining Daisy towards Weathertop. Suddenly, he realized how cold he was, and it seemed like forever until they reached a sheltered niche. 

They tied up the ponies near a patch of grass and got out their blankets, which were still mostly dry. It was out of the question to build a fire and the two hobbits simply huddled under the overhang, attempting to stay out of the rain. Estella was still shivering convulsively and her teeth were chattering. After a moment, Merry realized he should do something for her, and before he had a chance to talk himself out of it, he scooted over towards her, draped his blanket over her shoulders, and put his arms around her, drawing her towards what little warmth his body offered. For a brief second, she stiffened, but then leaned into him. "Thanks," she mumbled. 

"No problem," he replied. He was surprised that he didn't feel uncomfortable with Estella Bolger in what amounted to an embrace. And oddly, Weathertop wasn't unnerving him as much as he'd expected. 

"What happened to you here?" Estella asked him unexpectedly. 

"Well…it's hard to explain." 

"Try me." 

And so he did. But he found himself saying more than he'd meant to, speaking of his entire journey; his fears along the way, everything. When he was done, it occurred to him that he'd revealed things about himself that almost no one else knew, and he felt his face grow hot. He hardly knew Estella (though in the course of the day he'd realized he'd like to know her better). No doubt she would think him a fool--and cowardly. 

To his surprise, however, she moved closer to him and said softly, "I had no idea what you endured. Somehow I thought…well, I don't know what I thought." She laughed a little and added, "I hate to sound fawning, but you were very…brave." 

"Brave?" That was the last thing he'd expected her to say. "No, I wasn't brave. Lady Éowyn was brave, and Aragorn, and Frodo, and Pippin. I only did what I had to do to stay alive." 

He felt Estella shrug and heard her yawn. "If you say so. I wouldn't know anything about bravery." 

There was a comfortable silence for awhile until Merry realized he should make some response, and so he murmured, "That isn't true." 

Estella didn't reply, however, because she had fallen fast asleep. Merry found himself smiling as he, too, closed his eyes. It was funny--he'd never thought he'd come back to Weathertop, and here he was with Estella Bolger nestled at his side, sleeping. Odd. Perhaps he might even be able to get some rest himself…. 

~


End file.
